The list was put together for BBC Culture by Jane Ciabattari, who polled 81 book critics from all around the world, excluding the UK. Each was asked to come up with a list of 10 British novels, naming one as the greatest.

Three Brontë novels on the top thirty and two on the top ten (regrettably, no Anne Brontë)

Middlemarch has at least three characters whose names have become bywords, starting with its great heroine, Dorothea Brooke; the others are the young doctor, Tertius Lydgate, and Dorothea’s first husband, the pedant Edward Casaubon. They are as much a part of any reader’s mind as Jane Eyre or Jay Gatsby, and in an age when many novels still found their subject in courtship, George Eliot used them to look at marriage instead. (Michael Gorra)

Maureen Corrigan lists her personal favourite books of 2015 on NPR. Including H is for Hawk by Helen MacDonald:

Helen Macdonald's best-selling memoir, H Is for Hawk, is certainly the roughest, toughest and, perhaps, the oddest meditation on grief that I've ever read. To read this memoir is to feel as though Emily Brontë just turned up at your door, trailing the windy, feral outdoors into your living room.

Kurzel’s film is striking, with a style that could be described as Andrea Arnold’s Wuthering Heights by way of an acid trip going bad, but the director’s grounded approach is forever at odds with that inescapably artificial Shakespearean dialogue – dialogue Kurzel never presumed to rewrite into something more befitting a film of this style. (Brogan Morris)

Emily Brontë was another influence. Whether or not she contracted an eating disorder as a teenager—at least one biographer has suggested she wrestled with “self-starvation and pining” at boarding school—her slow death by consumption gave the culture an indelible image of genius wasting away.

As the book draws to an end, I couldn’t help but wonder whether, the life of Zuni, her thoughts, her speeches to her heart (yes, this much I can tell, she speaks a lot to her heart) is a walk along the dark alleys of Mr Heathcliff. I did take out Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights (it remains one of my favorites) and read it again. But again No. Zuni is not Mr Heathcliff. (Longrangty Longchar)

Dispatch News Desk (Pakistan) talks about the Pakistani links of the authors of the San Bernardino massacre and ends the article with a quote from Charlotte Brontë.

“I can be on guard against my enemies, but god deliver me from my friends!” (to G.H. Lewes, January 1850). (Article by Agha Iqrar Haroon)

The story takes hold in a way that earlier versions didn’t. I retitle it The Smell of Dead Flowers and in various drafts through September and October the word count grows to just under 9,000 words. Jean Rhys and Wide Sargasso Sea have somehow insinuated themselves into the narrative.